


If That Was Me, Then Who Am I?

by superqueerdanvers



Series: Flashes Like Camera Bulbs [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: But it isn't explicitly stated, Identity Issues, Mentioned Gertrude Robinson, Multi, Pre-Relationship, Spiral-Typical Weirdness, Trans Michael Shelley, gerry is genderqueer (and uses he/him pronouns) and oliver is also trans, sort of hurt/comfort?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:07:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26502643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superqueerdanvers/pseuds/superqueerdanvers
Summary: There was Michael Shelley, and there was the Distortion. A human, and a being of eldritch unreality. And then Gertrude sent her naive assistant through the door and left without looking back.Everything was wrong. He was both, and neither, and and, and or, and it hurt. He wasn’t supposed to be him, whoever – whatever – he was. He needed help.(This is a prequel to "And So Gerard Keay Ended," but you can read them in any order.)
Relationships: Michael Shelley & Michael | The Distortion (The Magnus Archives), Oliver Banks/Gerard Keay/Michael | The Distortion
Series: Flashes Like Camera Bulbs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1926604
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	If That Was Me, Then Who Am I?

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "Loki" by the Mechanisms (as is the title for the series).

There was Michael Shelley, and there was the Distortion. A human, and a being of eldritch unreality. And then Gertrude sent her naive assistant through the door and left without looking back.

Who was he now? _What_ was he?

He screamed, corridors wrenching and writhing in pain as he cried out for the others of It Is Not What It Is. But his siblings were too far away, and they could not hear him.

He screamed, running through corridor after corridor and opening door after door as he cried out for Gertrude. But she was gone, and he could not find her.

At last he stopped, legs and corridors trembling, and began to sob. He had failed, and Gertrude had abandoned him. He slid to the ground and coiled in on himself, too-long arms around bony knees and corridors winding tight.

He tried to remember his family. He’d had a family, hadn’t he? A father, and a mother, and a little sister. Or was it an older brother? What was the difference? Had he had any siblings at all? Yes, he remembered now, hundreds of them, all twisting and contorting and distorting like him. Had he even had parents, or had he and his siblings simply branched off of the infinite, migraine-inducing fractal that was the Twisting Deceit?

Were these even his memories?

Were they even real?

Everything was wrong. He was both, and neither, and and, and or, and it _hurt_. He wasn’t supposed to be him, whoever – _what_ ever – he was. He needed help.

Part of him clung to the hope that Gertrude could help, but he already knew he wouldn’t be able to find her. And another part of him feared what she would do if he did.

Her other assistants had been working at the Magnus Institute long before he had, so they probably knew more than he did. Maybe they could help. But he’d barely so much as had coffee in the breakroom with them. How could he come to them with something like this?

There was also that nice goth who came to burn books with Gertrude sometimes. Gerard. He was only around the age of the human who had gone through the door, and he didn’t officially work for the Institute, but he seemed to know what he was doing. The then-human had found him intimidating at first, but then Gerard had complimented the little trans pride pin on his bag, and they’d had lunch together a few times.

This was probably still too much to ask of Gerard, but he didn’t have a better option. He stepped through a door.

* * *

He found himself in a small flat. Gerard was sitting on the couch, talking with a handsome young man. Gerard stood. “ _Michael?_ But Gertrude said…” His expression turned dark. “She sacrificed you to stop the ritual, didn’t she?”

_Michael,_ he thought with relief. _Yes. That is a name._ It wasn’t much, but he at least had something to call himself. Still, “I… think so? I don’t know… I don’t know if I’m me anymore. Can you help me?”

Gerard bit his lip. “I don’t suppose this can wait until tomorrow?” He saw the look on Michael’s face and sighed. “Right. Sorry Oliver, can we reschedule?”

The young man – Oliver, apparently – had shrunk back against the couch when he saw Michael. Now he blinked and seemed to shake himself a little. “Yeah, of course.” He glanced from Michael to Gerard. “Will you be okay?”

“Yeah, Michael’s a friend.”

Michael’s eyes filled with tears, and he wiped them with too-large hands. He was a friend?

“All right.” Oliver stood and moved towards the door – the ordinary one that led to an ordinary hallway. Then he hesitated. “Can I help?”

Gerard’s shoulders sagged. “Oliver, this is an Entity thing, and—“

Oliver held up a hand. “I know, you want me to stay safe, not get involved. But Gerry, I’m an avatar. I’m already involved.” He took a deep breath. “And I want to help if I can.”

After a moment, Gerard sighed. “Fine. If it’s okay with Michael…” Michael nodded. “You can stay.”

Gerard and Oliver sat back down on the couch, and Michael awkwardly perched himself on a nearby chair. “Michael, this is Oliver, my…” Gerard smiled a little. “My boyfriend. Oliver, this is Michael. He—“ He paused and looked at Michael. “He?”

“Gender is… difficult. But the human Michael used he.” Michael nodded. “Yes, he is good.”

“He was Gertrude’s assistant, and she took him with her to stop a ritual by the Spiral. And then came back without him.” Gerard’s voice was low and bitter.

“She told me we were going to fight a great evil. Am I evil, Gerard?”

Gerard shrugged. “Fuck if I know. But I trust you, or at least the original Michael, and you’re upset, so let’s focus on one thing at a time. What happened at Sannikov Land?”

Michael brought his knees up to his chest and curled in on himself. “Sannikov Land doesn’t exist, and never has. We created it, but that does not mean it existed. We had been preparing for ages, and we were so excited to twist the world into something new. And then Gertrude and I came along. I was so scared, and I thought I was losing my mind, but Gertrude seemed so calm and confident, so I… I trusted her. And when she handed me a map and told me to go through my door, I did. I followed her map to my heart. I became me, and our Great Twisting unraveled. And before I could cry for help, Gertrude and my siblings were gone.”

_“Fuck,”_ Gerard said softly. “That lying, manipulative – she said you got dragged through a door and she couldn’t save you.”

Michael hesitated, then spoke again. “Maybe… maybe she meant to come back. But then with everything falling apart, she had to leave?” He didn’t really believe it, but…

Gerard shook his head. “No. Gertrude’s smart. She had a map, and she left before the collapse of your ritual took her with it. She knew exactly what she was doing.” After a moment, he added, “I’m sorry.”

“Then maybe she knows how to undo it, how to fix me!” Even as he said it, the hope felt false and hollow.

“I doubt she could, even if she wanted to,” Oliver said gently.

Gerard nodded. “Becoming an avatar tends to be pretty permanent. And I wouldn’t recommend approaching her. She’s… not nice to supernatural beings she doesn’t think could be useful.”

Michael met Gerard’s gaze with tear-filled eyes. “Gerard, please! This _hurts_ , I’m not supposed to _be_ me, I… _please_.”

Gerard reached out and awkwardly touched Michael’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, but it’s already done. I’ll be here for you, but I don’t think there’s anything else I can do.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m a fairly new avatar, too,” Oliver said. “If you ever want to talk.”

Michael got up and dove onto the couch, full-on sobbing as he curled up between Gerard and Oliver, his head on Gerard’s lap. They hesitated, then Gerard offered him a tissue, and Oliver started to rub his back.

“Call me Gerry,” Gerard said quietly after a minute.

“What?”

“Gerard is what my mother called me, and Gertrude. My friends call me Gerry.”

“And boyfriends,” Oliver added.

Michael could hear the smile in Gerard – no, in Gerry’s – voice when he said, “Yes, my boyfriends also call me Gerry.”

Gerry and Oliver held him, and gradually his sobs subsided. Eventually, Michael drifted off to sleep, his face in Gerry’s skirt and Oliver’s hands on his back.


End file.
